If I Never Married You
by Jake Nickleby
Summary: Hoping to fix his future, Wilbur continues his quest to find out what happened between his parents in the past. Second installment of "If I Wasn't a Robinson".
1. Impossibly Possible

Disclaimer: All characters and events related to _Meet the Robinsons_ are owned by William Joyce and Walt Disney Animation Studios.

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Currently looking for Cover Art commissions.

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Nothing is set in stone.

The right choices need to be made,

Or a life can change in a second.

The future depends on you…

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Chapter One: Impossibly Possible

Wilbur sat on an old-fashioned wooden bench on a grassy area in the park, watching cloud formations go by. The city was so… "Underdeveloped," he mused. The future was so different than he remembered it to be. It was so disappointing.

He still wondered about the day his life got turned around. It was probably his fault. He probably messed up the time stream when he went back in time. Not only did he changed the future, but the past as well. Shutting his eyes, he went over the situation in his head once again.

One mistake caused his parents to break up. Which caused his mother to live a separate life from the Robinson family. Which caused his father to lose inspiration to built inventions he was suppose to build, including the time machines. In that case, he never got the chance to go back in time. Which meant that Lewis never met Wilbur.

The thirteen-year-old let out an exasperated sigh. This was so confusing! How could he remember going back in time when technically it never happened? He did at one time, right? He would have to think harder about fixing this dilemma.

Suddenly, his classmate and friend, Daphne Franks came walking up to the bench, and sat down next to him.

"So I heard that you moved in with your dad…" Wilbur nodded.

"Daphne," he breathed. "Would you think I was crazy if I told you that I had been time traveling?"

She thought hard for a few minutes, then answered, "Yep!" Wilbur pouted. He was being serious, and Daphne was acting as if it was a joke! Luckily, she caught on.

"Will, you've been acting weird these past few weeks… What's up, dude?" Wilbur frowned.

"Are you going to take me seriously if I tell you?" She nodded.

"Well, let me start at the beginning. I woke up one morning, only to find my life terribly different! I'm living in a tiny apartment with my Mom, I found out that both my uncles are in trouble, and the rest of my family didn't even know I was born!" Wilbur paused to take a breath, then looked up at the clouds again.

"What would you think if I told you that this wasn't our future?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked with confusion lingering in her features.

"I mean, what would you think if I were to tell you that there was more to this city than what you know of? What would you think if we could get around inside bubbles? Or had robots? Or even…"

"Travel in a time machine?" Daphne suggested.

"Yeah!" Wilbur said excitedly. Daphne turned away, looking forward.

"You're right," she said. "You are crazy."

"I thought you were going to take me seriously!" he growled irritably.

"And I am!" she said, snickering. "That doesn't mean I can't tease you!"

"You're, like, what?" he asked in annoyance. "Five or six months older than I am? Why do you have to treat me like your younger brother?"

"'Cause I love you like a brotha!" she said, putting an arm around him.

"We're getting off track," Wilbur said, brushing her off. "I really need your help with this. I have to find out why my parents split up, then I have to try to find a way to go back and get them back together!"

"Wilbur," she said in a bit of a sympathetic tone, "That's impossible…"

"No, it's not—" he protested.

"Hey," she said with a smirk. "I said it was impossible. I never said that I couldn't do it."

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End of Chapter One

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Author's Note: In _If I Wasn't a Robinson_, a lot of explanations never got resolved. Because those of you who reviewed, I decided to quickly write up a sequel that goes in depth of Franny and Cornelius' relationship, as well as Wilbur continuing his quest to find out and fix what happened. This is dedicated all to you!

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2 October 2007


	2. I Think You're Swell

For disclaimer on _Meet the Robinsons_, please refer to chapter one.

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Currently looking for Cover Art commissions.

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Chapter Two: I Think You're Swell

Wilbur laid facedown on his bed, with one arm dangling off the side. His feet were resting on his pillow, and his face buried at the foot of the bed. He turned his head and looked out the window. Twilight came quickly enough, and the bedroom was getting dark fast. He really wished he was still at the park, with the glowing sun setting over the grounds.

Wilbur was annoyed that Daphne had to go home, after she said that she would help him restore the future. She was such a tease… Wilbur sighed. He was putting a lot of trust in someone he hardly knew.

He lifted his head to look at the pieces of paper he spread all over bed. Wilbur wrote down notes about all that he remembered about running the time machines, but it seemed to be no good to know how the controls worked if he did not know how the mechanics worked.

Turning his head to the opposite side of the room, he looked at the pile of boxes waiting to be unpacked. He walked over to the box on top of the stack. As he opened up the flaps, he saw something moving in the dark corner of the room. Wilbur screamed as he fell backwards, knocking over the boxes in the process. The contents inside the boxes spilled out, scattering on the wooden floor.

"W-who's there?" he asked in a shaky voice. Th object emerged from the corner, the fading light shone onto the metallic surface. Two blue lights for eyes blinked at Wilbur.

"Carl?" the boy asked in surprise.

"What? Who are you? What are you doing in my room?" the robot jabbered nervously.

"_Your_ room?" Wilbur asked, annoyed. "This is _my_ room!" He stared at the artificial intelligence for a moment. Dust and cobwebs were collected on the mechanical figure, and rust appeared on the surface as well. He then remembered Carl had worried about being alone, rusting in a corner if the boy did not exist. In a way, he was non-existent to Carl for thirteen years, so his anxiety became true.

"What?" The robot looked around neurotically. "Whose room—Who are you?"

"Wilbur!" he yelled, exasperated. "Cornelius' son."

"Oh, yes…" the automated man muttered, twirling its two index fingers together. "Wilbur… Cornelius' son…" The thirteen-year-old raised an eyebrow. Carl's strange behavior might be the result of a few short circuits. He acted like a mad man in solitary confinement.

"You knew I existed?" Wilbur asked, pointing to himself. "But Dad never told anyone…"

"He told me," Carl answered, continuing to twirl his fingers. "But promised not to tell… Secrets driving me crazy."

"What did he tell you?" Wilbur demanded. Carl made a yelp, and he stopped spinning his fingers.

"I promised not to tell!" he restlessly answered, placing his hands in loose fists, and putting each one on either side of his face.

"But I _am_ the secret. Besides, everyone else found out anyway about a few weeks ago," Wilbur reassured. "It's okay, you can tell me." Carl resumed rotating his fingers around.

"You know, Mister Robinson shouldn't keep his personal stuff mixed up with his work stuff..." Carl mused. "You find secrets you don't want to know about!"

"Carl, I need your help…" Wilbur pleaded. "I need to find some things for me… _about_ me. Documents, or whatever you can find. I also need you to find blue prints or idea sketches of some of the inventions Dad has made… Will you do that for me?"

Carl nodded his head faintly, and skulked out of the room.

"I still can't believe that Cornelius has a son," Wilbur head someone murmured disappointedly, or disgustedly, from outside the room. It sounded like Tallulah. Obviously, she did not think that he could hear her through the closed door. He turned his head toward the door, and noticed that it was not entirely closed. Carl had left it slightly ajar.

"Why, don't you like Wilbur?" came the second voice, belonging to Laszlo.

"What?" she asked in an absurd tone. "No, I love Wilbur! I think he's adorable…" she answered. "But I just don't understand why Cornelius kept him a secret from us."

"He probably had a good reason why he didn't tell us," Laszlo responded. Tallulah let out a sigh.

"Why would he take her back?" she asked.

"Oh, so it's Franny you don't like?" Laszlo teased.

"Will you stop that?" she yelled, aggravated. "I never said that I didn't like anybody!" Tallulah realized how loud she was getting, and continued in a quieter voice, "It's just that she kept Wilbur away from him for all these years. Why would he take her back?"

"He loves her," Laszlo simply responded.

"But does she love him back?" she asked.

"Maybe," he said. "I don't know. We don't know the whole story. We can't just make assumptions about it." Tallulah sighed again.

"You're right," she said. "I'll meet you in the dining room…" Laszlo's footsteps echoed down the hall until it slowly faded away. "Wilbur," Tallulah called, knocking on the door. "Do you want some dinner?" she asked, opening the door.

"Nah," he answered as the fashionista came into the room and sat down at the end of the bed. "Maybe later…" He sat down next to her.

"Hey, Tallulah?" he called softly. "Could I ask you something?" She paused for a moment, looking at the boy sadly.

"Sure," she answered after some thought.

"Do you remember the day I came over here?" She nodded. "Why were you crying?" Tallulah looked away from him, her eyes glazed over.

"Sorry," Wilbur said quickly. Then, slowly, he said, "You don't have to tell me…"

"My boyfriend dumped me," she sobbed. "In front of the entire school, too! I was so humiliated!" She buried her face in her hands. "And now I don't have a date to the prom!" Wiping her cheeks, she muttered, "Dumped me for some pretty, popular, bitchy cheerleader…"

Wilbur hated seeing his cousin like this. He wrapped his arms around her, and squeezed her tightly. "I think you're swell…" he told her. She smiled, and hugged him back.

"You are just too adorable…"

"I've been called that," he said, smugly.

"Well, I hope you come join us later," Tallulah concluded, standing up. With a wave, she left the room.

Wilbur turned his attention to his belongings that were spilt all over the floor. He picked up an empty box and turned it off its side. Underneath the box, he saw about two dozen pocket-sized books with latches on the sides- diaries.

"These aren't mine," he mumbled to himself. "They're Mom's." He bent over and picked one up. Turing the diary over, he read the spine: "January 2023- December 2024." The answer he was looking for was staring right in his face. These were his mother's diaries!

Unlocking the latch, Wilbur held the book with a shaky hand. He was a bit afraid of what he would read. Placing the diary on the bed, he stood back. He stared down at it, surrounded by the time machine notes. Then he curled himself on the bed, picked up the diary again, and slowly opened the book.

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End of Chapter Two

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6 October 2007


	3. Looking Back, Part One

Disclaimer: All lyric rights to _Nothing I Do_ (from the album _Catching Tales_) belong to Jamie Cullum and EMI Music Publishing. Jamie Cullum appears courtesy of Universal Classics & Jazz. For disclaimer on _Meet the Robinsons_, please refer to chapter one.

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Warning: This chapter contains non-descriptive sexual content. Please read cautiously if you are sensitive to this type of content.

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Currently looking for Cover Art commissions.

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Chapter Three: Looking Back, Part One

_Sunday, November 10th 2019_

"You useless, selfish prick!" she sobbed. "I never want to see you again!" she cried. Then she grabbed her coat and purse, and slammed the door behind her.

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_Saturday, June 3rd 2023, ten o'clock at night_

Franny wrapped her black shawl tightly around herself as the warm, summer night breeze blew around her. The skirt of her bright, spring green dress fluttered and loose strands of hair from her messy bun whipped through the wind. Breathing in the scent of the ocean, a smile lingered on her lips as she looked out to the rolling, black waves on the shore.

Continuing to walk alongside the boardwalk, Franny made her way past through the bustling group of people as they closed their fun day at the beach and carnival games. She walked along the edge, by the railing that separaed the boarwalk from the beach, to avoid the majority of the crowd that streamed through the center. She concentrated on the space in front of her feet, trying to balance her black high-heeled shoes on the wooden floor.

Suddenly, she forced her focus up as she nearly ran right into someone's broad chest.

"Oh!" Franny exclaimed in surprise, stumbling one step backwards. Staring up into the other person's shocked face, she put on a nervous smile. There was no mistaking those sapphire blue eyes, feathery blonde hair, and glasses anywhere.

"Cornelius," she greeted, tucking her hair behind her ear as a breeze rippled through the air between them. "Imagine meeting you here. How are you?"

The man in subject returned a shaky smile back to her. "I'm fine- no, great, actually," he answered. "What brings you here?"

"Actually," Franny responded confidently, "I just had my first show here. Frankie and the boys performed at the night club in town tonight."

Cornelius couldn't help but beam at her. "I always knew you would hit it big time."

After a moment of staring proudly into each other's eyes, Franny playfully cocked an eyebrow up, and simply asked, "Business trip?"

"Y-yeah," he stumbled, snapping out of his daze. "Are you in town for long?"

"I leave tomorrow morning," she answered.

"Oh..." She could have sworn his smile falter for a moment. More silence between them, but it somehow felt calming. Cornelius cleared his throat. "You look gorgeous."

Franny stared at him, stunned. Her heart felt suddenly heavy, and a blush creeped up on her cheekbones. It took her several minutes to muster up, "I've missed you..." in a quiet voice.

He reached out towards her; one hand behind her head, the other rested on her lower back near her hip. He pulled her close to him, and planted a deep, tender kiss on her smooth, pearly pink lips. Her eyes flutterd shut as she returned the kiss. Her hands found its way to his msucular arms.

Cornelius leanred forward as he intensified the kiss. Franny, in return, dipped into the kiss as she moved her hands up to clasp around the back of his neck.

Yes, she really did miss this.

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_Sunday, June 4th 2023, morning_

Lying on her left side, Franny stared at the glowing red numbers of the alarm clock that stood on the night stand. She could hear Cornelius' steady breathing as he slept peacefully behind her. His arm limply rested around her. Quietly, she pulled away from his embrace, and sat up, slipping on a fluffy, white robe. _  
_

She walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchenette. Patiently she waited for the electric kettle to boil the water inside, as she thought things over. The events that occurred the previous night flooded back to her.

Walking alongside the beach, running into him, kissing him passionally on the boardwalk, never stopping until they had reached his suite.

With his hand supporting her neck, Cornelius gently laid Franny down on the bed. He ran his finger along the satin ribbon tie, and effortlessly let it come undone. His hands explored the sheer overlay of her dress. Finding the satin ribbon hemline, he pulled the dress upward, letting it glide over her body.

Placing her hands on the back of his neck, Franny kissed him tenderly. Her hands roamed from his neck, down to his back, slipping off his dress shirt, leaving his back bare.

Cornelius held Franny close, feeling her soft, warm embrace from underneath him. His fingers ran through her long, silky black hair, as Franny ran her fingers through his spiky, blonde hair. She could feel his sweet, hot breath against her candy pink lips. An intense feeling began to build inside her. His heavy breathing indicated to her that he was probably carried the same vibe.

It was a spark of emotions that they never experienced before. Climaxing together, they gasped and respired until their pants began to slow and steady. They held each other close, as if the universe would fall apart if they ever let go of each other. He leaned down and kissed her profoundly. Arching her head upward, her fingers tanged up in his hair on the back of his head, she reciprocated the kiss.

After one, long minute, they unhurriedly released their bond. Things felt new and fresh between all this passion a rediscovery of the love they lost? That is what Franny had thought until she woke up early the next morning.

As she lied on her side, watching the alarm clock and listening to Cornelius' breathing, she felt empty inside. That spark that she felt last night was gone. The passion disappeared. Now all she could think about was the previous time they had seen each other before last night.

Snapping out of her memory, she poured hot water in a white, porcelain mug, and brought it over to a table. She sat down, crossing one bare leg over the other, and her robe slipped off her right shoulder. She clutched at the steaming cup of tea, never lifting it up to take a sip.

Franny could hear Cornelius get out of bed and step into the room. Wearing nothing but boxer shorts, he went up to her, and kissed her lovingly on the side of her face. Franny could feel his smile against her cheek as he slowly breathed in her scent.

He left the room to the shower. Tears pricked her eyes as she lifted her head to look in the direction of the bathroom. She didn't want to relive that one night in November. She didn't want to feel that pain again. If she stayed, they would only cycle back into that same situation.

She pushed the mug away from her, and got up. Pulling off her robe, she picked up the discarded dress on the bedroom floor, and slipped it on. She put on her high-heeled shoes, and wrapped her black shawl around herself. She grabbed her purse, and quietly left the building as the sound of the beating water from the showerhead echoed throughout the room.

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_Saturday, July 15th 2023, six o'clock in the evening_

"We were so drunk last night

We had that stupid fight

You called me a useless, selfish pri-i-ick"

"Frankie!" Franny shouted, upset. She threw down her baton, and held her hand to her mouth, trying to suppress the tears that filled her eyes.

"Franny, dear," Evelyn spoke softly, sitting down. "Why don't you take a break? You've been rehearsing for two and a half hours now." Franny sighed as she glanced over at the clock mounted on the wall. In fact, she had been rehearsing for three hours.

For some unexplainable reason, the smell of Evelyn's sub sandwich was vile to Franny, making her physically sick. She dropped to her knees, and vomited onto the carpet. Collapsing, she put her hand to her head and sighed deeply.

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly as Evelyn rushed to her side. "I don't know what came over me…"

"That's alright, Franny," Evelyn assured, giving the other woman a small smile. "Let's just get you cleaned up." She took Franny by the arm and gently, slowly helped her up and guided her to the bathroom.

"So, Franny," Evelyn began as Franny finished washing her hands in the bathroom sink, and making their way out into the main room again. "Dave wanted me to ask you when you wanted to book your next show."

"Oh, sure!" Franny answered, shaking her head to try to clear her mind and recompose herself. "Sure," she repeated, striding over to her purse to pull out her daily planner. Flipping through until she got to the July calender, she glided her finger over a few boxes and numbers. "Would Saturday the twenty-ninth be too soon?"

"I'll check with Dave, but I'm pretty sure we can secure the spot," Evelyn responded happily.

Franny smiled back. "Thanks, Evie." She grabbed her lightweight sweater and slipped it on. "I'll give you a call later, okay?"

Evelyn hurried over to the other woman and wrapped her arms around her. "You take care of yourself." She let go of her embrace. Franny smiled again. She was grateful to have friends and family in her life that cared so much about her.

"I will," she convinced her ally.

Franny turned to grab her planner and purse, when her attention was latched onto the day's date- the fifteenth- then to the following two day's date- the seventeenth. It sparked an idea, as she counted the days backwards until she landed on the seventeenth from the previous month. She inhaled sharply and made no effort to exhale. Twenty-eight days.

She should have had her period twenty-eight days ago, and she didn't even realize she missed it. Even if she had noticed, she would have brushed the lack of menstruation off as stress. And she would have done the same this time, hadn't been for her vision falling back onto the calender to clue her in.

Scanning her eyes to the left of the page, she stopped as she saw _Sunday, Jun 4_ highlighted with red pen. It read, _Leave for home_. The morning she left the beach town... Franny forced herself to breathe, otherwise she would had caused herself to suffocate.

"Franny?" she heard Evelyn's voice call out from behind her. "Is everything alright, dear?"

Summoning a withering smile, Franny gulped out, "Peachy."

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_Sunday, July 16th 2023, just before six o'clock in the morning_

Franny huddled herself on her apartment's bathroom black-and-white tile floor, leaning against the corner of the sink's counter to create the illusion that she fit herself in the small space between the counter and toilet. A storm of emotions that were brewing up inside her left her confused.

She heard the front door of the apartment open, creaking slowly, as she knew that her brother usually tried to enter in quietly with the chance she was still asleep. Not that it mattered much to her, since she hadn't slept a wink all night, sitting alone on the bathroom floor. Listening intently to his footsteps tread through the room, Franny's silence became more self-aware.

On one hand, she was relieved that Gaston had found a good job that allowed him to live in his own space; hiding the truth from him would be a lot easier. On the other hand, she was terrified that she would be all alone... now that she let _this_ happen to her. Either way, she was not ready to let her overprotective older brother know about this reality.

The footsteps stopped, shuffling around every few moments. "Franny?"

Stay silent, her conscience told her. She heard him walking around the apartment, checking all the rooms and calling her name out periodically. Then finally, the footsteps met the space right outside the bathroom. "Franny, you in there?" It was less of a question. More of a needed comforting confirmation. He probably could see the light streaming from underneath the crack of the door. "Fran? Is everything okay?" No answer.

"Franny!" she heard her brother yell through the closed door as he pounded his fist against the rectangular wooden board that separated them. She did not bother to call back to him. She just continued to sit silently on the checkered tiled floor, next to the toilet.

Franny ran her hand over the torso of her lacy, black camisole, and brought her knees close to her chest as she stared at the object she held in her hand. Her toile print pajama pants hung on her frame; the only way for her pants to fit was the drawstring tied firmly around her hips.

The door handle jiggled fiercely for a couple of minutes. Gaston successfully threw the door open after a good three minutes of trial. He stared at her worriedly. Franny tried to hide the white, plastic stick from his view by stuffing it into the trash can, but it was too late. He already saw it.

Gaston lunged forward and grabbed her wrist, and pulled it toward him, getting a better look at the instrument in her hand. A pale pink colored the tip of the stick.

There was a painful pause in the air. She deliberately averted her gaze from him, but accidentally caught a glimpse of his shocked, heart-wretching face just before she turned away.

"Who did this?" he asked angrily through gritted teeth. "Who did this to you?" he demanded, grasping her wrist too tightly and shaking her. "WHO?"

"You're hurting me…" she cowered. He slowly let go of her, and stared at her apologetically. Then he quickly grew angry again.

"I bet it was that Cornelius, wasn't it?"

"Gaston, please…" the younger sibling whimpered. He sighed.

"Maybe I shouldn't move out yet," he reasoned, handling her gently in attempts to comfort. "Maybe I should stay here…"

"Gaston, that won't be necessary…" she said sadly, almost aloof.

"Franny, do you realize what it takes to raise a child as a single parent?" he yelled. It was until then did she look straight into her brother's troubled brown eyes. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I do," she answered calmly. "And that what scares me the most." She began to sob. "But you got to trust me… I can do this on my own…" Gaston reached out and held onto his baby sister as she wept into his shoulder.

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_Sunday, March 10th 2024, six o'clock in the morning_

Franny squeezed her brother's hand tightly as she felt another contraction occur.

"Are you the father?" the doctor asked as they hurriedly wheeled Franny into the emergency room.

"No, I'm her brother!" he shouted over the loud, bustling noises of the hospital. "B-but p-please let me stay with her!" he pleaded. "I'm all she has!"

"Gaston…" Franny gasped.

"Don't worry!" he shouted. "Art will be with us soon! Just hang on!"

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_Sunday, March 10th 2024, late afternoon_

Gaston glared into the room through the glass window of the door as Franny sat comfortably in the hospital bed, looking lovingly at the newborn suckling the milk from her breast.

"She gave him the father's name," he spat. Art put a hand on his younger brother's shoulder.

"Don't be angry…"

"I am angry!" growled Gaston as he shrugged his shoulder away. "He's the son of the guy who knocked our little sister up!" Art placed his hand on Gaston's shoulder again.

"Don't hate Wilbur. This isn't the baby's fault." Gaston sighed and relaxed his tense muscles.

"I know, and I don't hate Wilbur. It's just…"

"What?" Art asked. Gaston sighed again.

"Why? Why did she pick the name Robinson?" Art let go of his grasp around his brother's shoulder.

"That's Franny's decision. Whatever the reason was, we need to support her for the choice she made." Gaston leaned against the doorframe and smiled sadly, staring at the patch of black fuzz on the back of the baby's head.

"It does have a nice ring to it… Wilbur Aldo Robinson…"

* * *

_Friday, December 20th 2024, nine o'clock in the evening_

Franny had finished her set at the night club. Some of the early birds started to clear out of the place while the night crawlers trickled in. The second jazz band booked for the night were beginning to assemble themselves on stage.

Vigilantly approaching the table where her child's father occupied all of his attention to the infant in his arms, the twenty-eight-year-old woman Whatever business client the man was suppose to meet was undoubtedly cancelled upon seeing his nine-month-old son for the very first time.

Cornelius glanced up when Franny sedated advancement caught his notice. He stood up swiftly with the baby in his arms. Soothing Wilbur by rubbing the little one's back with his hand, the newfound dad seemed to struggle with himself inwardly as he tried multiple times to open his mouth and say something to the woman in front of him. Like he doesn't want to let go of him, she gathered.

Eventually, the blonde was able to operate himself to hand over the child to his mother. He shuffled his feet around as his eyes darted embarrassedly to the floor, scratching the back of his head. Able to look back up at the dark-haired lady, he tried again to speak. This time, he was able to get a sentence out of himself.

"Franny, would you think it would be alright if I wrote to Wilbur?"

"You-" she stuttered, somehow surprised by the request. "You want to write?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'll start out with cards for his birthday." He stopped himself for a moment when he realized an important detail. "Which would be March...?"

"Tenth," Franny clarified.

Cornelius swallowed the lump that wanted to form in his throat, and he continued, "When Wilbur is older, he could write back if he would like... As long as I have your consent."

Franny looked touched; he could tell by seeing the twinkle in her eyes, and her mouth formed in a speechless pout. "I'm sure he would like that very much..." she answered quietly.

The genius man gleamed. "Until next March..." he closed the conversation with a smile, and walked out of the club as the band struck up their first tune.

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End of Chapter Three

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Author's Note: So I hope you enjoyed this chapter, getting a little more insight about our favorite troublesome lovers. I know you're all probably upset with me for going on a four-year hiatus. That's what five years of schooling will do. But seeing how I conceived my _MTR_ stories during my first year of college, and as this is my last year at this school, I'm celebrating my one-month summer break by updating all of my work. I just want to thank you all for your loyalty- reviewing, subscribing, and favoring. I hope I have done justice to the rest of this tale for all of you stellar fans.

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About _If I Never Married You_:

These are some notes about this story and particular chapter. If you need some clarification, please read.

This chapter was meant to be a flashback from Franny's perspective, which is why I used the diaries as a transition. It made a much cleaner switch in viewpoint, and it gave Wilbur the insight he needed without having to directly confront his parents for answers. However, the information he is getting is a more summarized version than the detailed flashback that you have read (all except for what happened on _Sunday, November 10th 2019_... He's still clueless like the rest of us about what happened. Easy come, easy go. You better do some more investigating, Wilbur!).

With that said, _If I Wasn't a Robinson_ ended where it needed to end. _If I Never Married You_ appropriately picks up where it needed to finish. From this chapter, you can see where it changed from a K+ rating to a T rating, and that is the reasoning why it needed to be two separate stories.

The upcoming chapter four was originally the second half of chapter three, but as I came to finishing the chapter, it came out too long and it seemed to make better time to splice it. Hey, more updates for you, right? And it came out more quickly that way, too!

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25 August 2011


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